


Desecrated

by chamyl



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Biting, Blasphemy, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Dom Crowley (Good Omens), Dom/sub, F/F, I'm embarrassed pls don't read this, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, Improper Use of a Rosary, Ineffable Wives (Good Omens), Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Religion Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Toys, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spanking, Sub Aziraphale (Good Omens), Vaginal Fingering, author is too soft to be writing D/S, improper use of latin, improper use of miracles, listen everything about this is improper af, or do it I'm not the boss of you, sexy nuns???, take me to snurch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 04:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21451855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamyl/pseuds/chamyl
Summary: While working undercover in the same nunnery, Crowley helps Aziraphale with a little fantasy of hers.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 68
Kudos: 532
Collections: Ineffable Wives recs





	Desecrated

**Author's Note:**

> Look, this is just filthy filthy f/f porn, I’m not going make any excuses for it. [The emoticons made me do it](https://imgur.com/a/3aXAwBE).
> 
> (She/her pronouns for both of them.)

Aziraphale pushed the heavy wooden door of the small church with shaky hands. She walked inside, her footsteps echoing on the cold marble floor.

“Crowley?” She called, gingerly adjusting the veil over her head – something she often caught herself doing whenever there was a chance of the demon laying eyes on her. This had been a common occurrence since they’d both been assigned to infiltrate the same nunnery, Aziraphale to secure souls for Heaven and Crowley, of course, to do the exact opposite.

It was a job that kept them in very close proximity but afforded them no chance to ever be alone, just the two of them and no one else. This, after a few months, had started inspiring certain _ideas_ in Aziraphale’s mind.

Crowley wasn’t hard to find. A few stone steps separated the aisle from the elevated chancer. Crowley was sitting on the altar, one leg crossed over the other. She’d taken many a liberty with her habit. A shock of red hair escaped her veil, framing her sharp cheekbones. The tunic clung snugly to her narrow body, and a slit exposed the whole of her right thigh and leg. She was wearing heels, and Aziraphale was quite sure she was seeing a hint of scarlet lace high up on her thigh.

By all counts, this should have been a ridiculous outfit on anyone. A bad-Halloween-costume kind of thing. Not so on Crowley. It looked perfect on her, making warmth rush to Aziraphale’s face as she averted her gaze. The angel scolded herself – couldn’t very well lose her mind over a bit of exposed leg, could she? She had to keep a calm and dignified appearance.

“Crowley, is this really necessary? If anyone finds out I’m gone in the middle of the day—”

“On your knees, Aziraphale.” Crowley said.

The angel almost stumbled on her feet. She’d reached the end of the aisle, where the steps started. “W-what? Why would I—what are you—”

“_On your knees_.” Crowley hissed out, and oh, Aziraphale had heard that voice before. The demon talked to her plants in that voice. The angel had never thought it’d be used against her.

She swallowed hard and dropped down to the floor.

The marble was cold and hard on her knees through the thin fabric of her habit. Her mouth was suddenly very dry, and it took her a few moments to speak. “Crowley, what is the meaning of this?”

Crowley finally pushed herself off the altar, her heels clicking on the floor as she stood on the highest step, looking down on Aziraphale. The demon was beautiful in the light descending from the tinted glass windows of the dome. She would have looked almost angelic hadn’t it been for the devilish grin on her face. She was no angel at all. She was a snake about to strike, and Aziraphale, on her knees before her, was easy prey.

“Oh, angel.” Crowley tutted. “You should really be ashamed of yourself.”

Aziraphale thought of every single time she’d strayed during the last few months. It was a strict life in the convent – waking up at the crack of dawn and going to bed early, eating drab, simple food, working hard every day on the most menial tasks, not to mention all the praying. Endless, slow, tortuous hours of praying.

And here she was, on her knees again.

“W-what about?” Aziraphale asked, weakly.

“Do you really think you can play dumb with me? Shame on you, Aziraphale.” Aziraphale fixed her gaze to the floor as Crowley started circling her, making her face grow warmer with every word she spoke. “Skirting your duties, for starters. You’re assigned to the library, how hard can it be? I should bring you out to work in the gardens with me, show you what it’s like to be on your knees all day.”

She wasn’t touching her, but Aziraphale flinched all the same at the idea of Crowley dragging her behind a hedge and pulling her down to the ground.

“I, I don’t—”

“What about the food you keep in your room, hmm?” Aziraphale’s hands tightened into fists. That was a secret. That was _supposed_ to be a secret. “All those nice, buttery biscuits… while your _sisters_ eat stale bread every day. Oh dear, oh dear.”

Aziraphale’s pale cheeks were burning red now, the shame flaring hot and heavy in her chest.

Crowley leaned over her, her voice dropping to a sweet, soft whisper. “Do you want to be forgiven?”

Aziraphale nodded.

“How badly?”

“Very.” The angel replied under her breath. “Very badly.”

Crowley sat down on the steps, spreading her legs wide open. She pushed her dress to the side. _Good Lord_, Aziraphale realised with a start, _she is wearing nothing at all underneath_.

“Come.” Ordered the demon.

Aziraphale stood up just to fall back down on her knees on the stiff stone steps. She positioned herself between Crowley’s legs, asking for permission with a quick glance upward before leaning down to give her an experimental lick. She heard herself moaning upon realising Crowley was already sopping wet for her, the folds of her hot and soft like a rose in full bloom, suggesting she’d been touching herself right before Aziraphale’s arrival. The angel pictured Crowley on the altar, one foot on the edge of it, sticking two fingers in her mouth and then deep inside her, tossing her head back, her skin gleaming in the dim light.

Aziraphale pulsed with desire and started kissing along Crowley’s inner thigh – there _was_ lace there, just as she’d suspected. Only so up close did she notice that Crowley was wearing thin stockings ending in dark scarlet lace, held up by thin suspenders that disappeared under her dress. The demon had really gone all out for her.

“Getting distracted, are we?” Crowley grabbed her head, pushing her face between her legs. “Come on, Aziraphale. Make me see the face of God.”

Ridiculous, that should have sounded ridiculous. Blasphemous and out of place, here on the steps in front of the altar. So why – Aziraphale’s head was spinning, dizzy with desire – why did she find that so unbearably hot?

Crowley leaned back, the palm of her free hand against the floor, granting the angel easier access. The angle forced Aziraphale almost on her belly.

_God said to the serpent, ‘On your belly you shall go, and dust you shall eat’_.

The irony wasn’t lost on the angel.

She put both hands on the demon’s inner thighs and pressed her mouth against her, encouraged by Crowley’s fingers on her head. For once, she didn’t worry about being prim and proper. Crowley loved it when she made a sloppy mess, loved to see her wet down her chin, loved to feel her whole mouth open against her, trembling lips and tongue and hot breath. Crowley would consume her whole and, bless it, Aziraphale was going to allow it. And then beg her for more.

“Fingers.” Crowley ordered, voice betraying her now, breath coming in short, shallow pants. Her legs opened a little bit wider, and Aziraphale knew exactly what to do. She slid a finger in, curving it and stroking her from the inside. “More, fuck—Aziraphale, more, _now_.”

The angel pulled her finger out and came back in with two, cursing under her breath as she felt the slick dripping down the back of her hand. She licked above her fingers, finding and teasing her clit. Light, brief strokes with the tip of her tongue.

Crowley was already so far gone that it was no surprise when she grabbed Aziraphale’s head with both hands, pressed her into her wet cunt, and came on her face with a cry that echoed through every corner of the church. The angel's whole body shuddered as she kept licking and swallowing, wanting to take everything for herself, wanting to float in that moment for as long as she'd be allowed.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Crowley chanted as she caught her breath. Aziraphale pulled back to stare at her, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She couldn’t rip her eyes off Crowley, her heaving chest, her legs still open wide, her gorgeous cunt glistening with slick and spit – _I’ve done that_, Aziraphale thought with pride.

There was merely a blink between that thought and sliding back down to bury her face against her one more time. She hadn’t been ordered to, but Crowley did not object at all, a hand snapping back to the angel’s head, guiding her. Crowley bucked her hips, riding her face and bringing herself to orgasm once more, then again, then again in rapid succession, until she fell back on the marble floor, completely spent. Aziraphale watched her, licking her lips.

“I didn’t tell you to touch yourself.” Crowley growled between ragged breaths.

Aziraphale guiltily drew back the hand she’d just slipped inside her habit, wondering how the hell Crowley had seen her. Oh, she was going to be punished now.

She couldn’t wait.

When Crowley stood back up her eyes had darkened. She pulled Aziraphale up by an elbow and led her to the altar, pushing her to bend down over it.

“Crowley, I—”

“Shut up,” Crowley said, and pulled the angel’s habit up to her waist. She stuck her foot between Aziraphale’s, forcing her legs open. Then she crouched between her thighs, pushed her underwear aside, and slid her impossibly long, forked tongue deep inside her.

Aziraphale wailed and clung to the edge of the altar with both hands, immediately giving in to the urge of rocking her hips. Crowley chuckled against her flesh and Aziraphale’s knees buckled. The demon’s lip brushed against her clit with every movement as her unnatural tongue did divine things inside her.

It was only a few minutes before Aziraphale felt she was about to come, but Crowley pulled back just before she could peak. Aziraphale whined out loud.

“You really believed I was going to let you?” Crowley laughed, nipping at her thigh. “After you’ve been so bad? I really don’t think so.” She stood up and slapped her arse hard, sending another cry echoing inside the stone walls. “Up you go.”

Aziraphale found herself crawling up on the altar, not a trace of her usual dignity and composure to be found. Doing what Crowley said would get her rewarded, and she couldn’t think about anything else.

Aziraphale lay on her back and Crowley joined her, grabbing both of her wrists and pulling them over her head. The demon took something out of her habit – a _rosary_, Aziraphale realised with a sharp intake of breath. Oh, both of them had earned a first class trip to Hell, one-way only, and the thought made her even wetter between her legs.

Crowley straddled her and bound her wrists, admiring her handiwork for a moment before coming back down to her. She pressed an open hand at the centre of Aziraphale’s chest. “Oh, angel. What in the world are you wearing underneath?” She asked, a crooked smile on her face. Crowley bit down into her lower lip and ripped the fabric apart, revealing the silky bra underneath. Aziraphale gasped twice, once at her clothes being ruined and again when Crowley buried her face between her breasts. The fabric of the bra she’d chosen was very thin and a little sheer. Crowley gave an appreciative noise as she pulled it down, letting her breasts spill out. “Now that’s a good angel.”

Aziraphale’s breath caught at the praise and she slammed her hands into the table when Crowley clamped her lips around a nipple and gave it a hard suck. Crowley sank her fingers into her breasts, her hands not big enough to cup the whole of them. She rolled the other nipple between thumb and forefinger, making Aziraphale thrash beneath her and spread her legs wider, bucking her hips.

Crowley chuckled at this reaction and slithered down. Both hands on Aziraphale’s inner thighs, the demon stroked the outer lips of her with both thumbs. When Aziraphale tried to shift beneath her, Crowley tutted again.

“Oh, Aziraphale, it’s not going to be that easy.” She leaned down, letting the angel feel her hot breath against her wet cunt. Her voice turned icy calm. “Sloth and gluttony you’re forgiven for, my little angel. But you’ve indulged in one more sin, haven’t you?”

Aziraphale closed her eyes, turning her face to the side.

“_Aziraphale_.” Crowley commanded, her voice booming in the empty church. “Look at me.”

Aziraphale, trembling, did.

“What else have you done?” Crowley growled, cheek pressed against her damp inner thigh.

The angel shivered, but shook her head and said nothing.

“No?” A grin bloomed slowly on Crowley’s face. “Are we going to make this _fun_, angel?”

She bit down into the plump flesh of Aziraphale’s inner thigh, leaving an angry red mark in the shape of her teeth. Aziraphale gasped and opened her legs wider for her.

Crowley’s long fingers traced slow circles around her clit. When Aziraphale looked down, she saw Crowley had propped her elbow against the altar; her cheek cupped in her free hand. She was staring up at the angel’s face. Almost bored – but with a spark in her golden eyes that suggested otherwise. She toyed with her for a long time, almost disinterestedly, keeping her touch feather-light, her fingers skimming along the most sensitive parts of her.

Aziraphale started with _Crowley, please_.

She quickly moved on to _please, Crowley, I need—_

She tried with _Crowley, I’m begging— _

Ended on a completely undignified _fuck, Crowley, fuck me, please_, _please_, _please._

Throughout all of this, Crowley didn’t relent at all. With single-minded focus, she kept teasing her until she had dripped all over the hard surface beneath them, squirming uncontrollably and blathering nonsense, begging.

“What else have you done, Aziraphale?” Crowley repeated, voice perfectly calm and steady. “Won’t you tell me? Don’t you want to be forgiven?”

“I, I…” Aziraphale bucked her hips one more time, letting out a long, whining noise when Crowley drew back her hand. “I touched…”

“Yeah?” Crowley flicked her tongue along her inner lips, making her draw in a sharp breath. “What did you touch?”

Aziraphale said nothing more, her thighs shaking like a leaf.

“Angel, angel, angel.” Crowley sighed into her, making her even more desperate to be touched. “Let me be very clear, one more time: you’re not getting fucked if you don’t tell me.” She put both hands on her cunt, spreading her wide open. “Tell me. What did you touch?”

“M-myself.” Aziraphale managed to push out, nails digging into her palms.

Crowley smiled from ear to ear. “Is that so?” She said, not a hint of surprise in her voice. “And what did you think about while you desecrated your body?”

Aziraphale swallowed, tensed, and then gave up altogether, the words flowing out of her in a rush. “You, _you_, I thought about you, Crowley. I thought about your mouth and your hands—your beautiful hands, oh, forgive me—and, and I thought about you touching me, but I can’t do it by myself, it’s not the same, I _need_—”

Crowley slithered up her body, kissing her hard and deep, both palms on Aziraphale’s cheeks. “That’s it. That’s perfect. Shhh, shhh.” She comforted her as Aziraphale trembled under her touch. “I’m going to give you everything you need.”

She went back to sit between Aziraphale’s legs, and soon the angel felt something smooth and cold sliding into her cunt. She gasped, but her body opened easily, eagerly for it. Glass, she realised hazily. With a smooth, round tip, and something along its length – ridges or swirls.

Crowley pushed it inside her and Aziraphale noticed it was slightly curved, _oh God,_ hitting just right – and when Crowley clamped her lips over her clit and hummed in appreciation, it was all over very quickly. Aziraphale came with a broken sob right there on the altar, back arching off the table.

Crowley crawled back up to kiss her again, letting Aziraphale taste herself, giving her a little respite. Then, she snapped and fingers and the toy started moving on its own, pumping in and out of the angel as Crowley rubbed her thumb into her clit.

“Aziraphale,” She whispered hoarsely into her ear. “_Te absolvo ab omni vinculo excommunicationis et interdicti in quantum possum et tu indiges_.”

The angel felt her body clenching helplessly around the glass, heard herself making loud, needy sounds as Crowley took care of her.

“_Deinde, ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti_.” One more snap of fingers and the toy came to life, vibrating inside Aziraphale and knocking any coherent thought clear out of her mind. “_Amen_.”

The angel came again in a loud, long wail and Crowley held her close to her, pressing soft kisses all over her forehead and lips as Aziraphale shook in her arms.

She fell back onto the altar, legs turned to jelly, mind blank, floating in a state of perfect bliss.

Crowley got rid of the toy and lay by her side, stroking her arm up and down. It was only when Aziraphale turned to look at her that she spoke, a little smile on her face.

“So?” The demon asked, showing a hint of self-consciousness for the first time that day. “How was it?”

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale beamed at her, scooting closer and kissing her on the lips. “Perfect, absolutely perfect.”

“Yeah? Everything you’d imagined?”

“Better yet. Although…” Crowley frowned, waiting with bated breath for the rest of that sentence. “However did you find a desecrated church? When you sat down, I thought you were going to burn your buttocks.” She giggled, and Crowley huffed out in annoyance.

“I’m happy to indulge you, angel, but let’s not get carried away.”

Aziraphale kissed her on the lips again, more tenderly. “My dear, we’re lying on an altar in a desecrated church. I rather think it’s a bit too late to concern ourselves with that.”

Crowley considered this for a moment, nodded, and grinned into the next kiss they shared.

**Author's Note:**

> My latin teacher must be so proud of me right now.
> 
> Also hi [Beppi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beppi/) had to go and [MAKE BEAUTIFUL ART OF THIS](https://twitter.com/diindiix/status/1195668200517591041) GODDAMN (nsfw, click with caution!)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] Desecrated](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21824185) by [carboncopies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carboncopies/pseuds/carboncopies)


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